


Trust me

by Deandeanmoose



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Doctor/Patient, F/M, Love Confessions, Smut, Therapy, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deandeanmoose/pseuds/Deandeanmoose
Summary: Frederick goes to a therapist to work on his trust issues with dating after several bad dates.





	Trust me

It was just after the fourth time Frederick chased a woman away that he looked into therapy. But of course, he didn't want people to know he was in therapy so he looked for someone discreet and someone he felt comfortable opening up to. Since most the issues came from sex for him, he chased girls away on purpose to avoid it. This lead him to the only sex therapist in Baltimore, because she doesn't advertise it and she had a discreet office... Her house. 

Babs, as her friends and patients called her, was a sex therapist. She was careful when picking clients and never went past five sessions. With the work leading towards a sexual nature, she had to be extremely careful and focused on each patient to stop them from growing attached. Now there are a few misconceptions about her work.

  1. _**She isn't a call girl or escort**_.
  2. _**The session isn't completely sex.**_
  3. _**If you don't show progress by the end of the second session, she won't keep pushing. She will just end services.**_
  4. _**She never falls for a client.**_



****Sex isn't the whole base of a session. It is therapy and even during sexual moments there is still therapy. She isn't a prostitute that your health insurance will pay for, and she isn't afraid to let a client know. So when she takes on new clients, usually she has to set restrictions for the first session.

Babylon Meera was very widely scrutinized in her work in the medical and psychological community. Most sex therapists don't have sex with clients, but in her study she does. Not always, you sign special forms when going into this study and the rules become a lot stricter. Since sex therapists don't actually do the deed, she is widely criticized for crossing that line. The truth was, only five men even went into the study until the point of which Frederick joined. Two women had joined as well. The other three men and women had ended the study after one session.

This was not the case for Dr. Fredrick Chilton, she knew it from the moment she laid eyes on him. When she agreed to take him on, for scars, she thought it would be a quick three sessions and done. But seeing him now as he walked in with a cane and dressed well, she knew something wasn't right. He stood in a suit, tie pin holding his tie in place, well polished shoes and each piece perfectly tailored to him. His hair neat and eyes glowing green with a sense of pride as he stood with the cane in front of him waiting for her to approach. She almost wished they were in a bar and not doctor to client.

Her green silk sundress showed her hips and waist beautifully, her hair braided in a loose casual style that helped to frame her blue eyes. A small set of kitty heels carried her down the hall to the man she thought she created in her dreams. Her only thought,  ** _What's the catch?_**

She smiled as she stretched her hand out, "Hello, you must be Frederick Chilton. I'm Dr. Babylon Meera, but please call me Babs."

"Nice to meet you Doctor. Interesting name." He smiled and shook her hand, "I must confess, you aren't as I expected."

"Did you expect dark hair, stilettos and spandex or leather? I'm not a dominatrix or a escort, but I do have a whip." She jested with a soft smirk, "right this way and we can go over the basics and start your session."

"Basics?" He frowned and stopped just inside the well kept room.

There was a chase lounge across from a chair. In the corner was a small bed and most of the walls behind the chair the woman took was filled with books. It was curiously professional, nothing like he expected as he slowly sat down on the lounge.

"Yes Mr. Chilton. Most my new clients don't know what sex therapy is or how it works. I like to be forward about the process and make sure you are on the same page." She sat smiling at me as she picked up her notebook and sat a recorder on a small table between them, "Is it ok if I record our sessions so I can keep track of progress and maintain my records."

"Yes."

"Ok," she turned the recorder on, "What do you prefer to be called?"

"Frederick will do." He shifted.

"No nickname? I let you use mine." She smirked and he quickly recognized the tease, "ok, Frederick it is. Do you know what sex therapy is?"

"I have read up on it, studies and journal articles... it is a therapy sessions that is sexual. Talking about the act and the short comings."

"Good, so you understand." She jottes something down, "and a personal rule of mine is I don't go past five sessions due to the higher chance of transference. Safety first after all."

"I understand," he nods, "I read it in the contract I had to bring."

She smiled and reached out for the small pack of papers, "good. Better then most my clients already. I do love doctors, your type always do your research so well."

"Are you not a doctor?" He asked quickly after hearing her phrasing.

"I am partially. I do not have a doctorate but I am well versed in psychology and I do have plenty of paperwork and documentation to allow me to practice with my license." She nodded and slipped the papers in a folder, "For the reason you have, I allotted five sessions."

"Oh." He paused a second, the second guessing clear on his face.

"I understand if you want to leave, some aren't comfortable with the idea of me not being a 'doctor'." She watched a second before he shook his head.

"No, I will finish the session. A waste not to."

"Good, so Frederick, since you read the contract for treatment you read my rules and agree to them... Correct?"

"Yes." He nodded still uncomfortable.

"Then let's start." She smiled, "you said you had an injury that is the cause of problems in your dating life?"

He leaned back against the small backing of the lounge, finding something that felt comfortable and knowing it was all in his head at the moment, "Yes. I have been through some very traumatic attacks and suffer because of the scars left behind."

She nodded and jotted it down as she asks, "what attacks?"

"I was disemboweled and left holding my own organs by a escaped criminal..." He closed his eyes and forced out the rest, "and shot in the face while I was being framed as a serial killer and kidnapper."

This made her pause, her mind really turning as she realizes just who sat in front of her. Dr. Frederick Chilton, the published psychologist that runs the hospital for the criminally insane. The stories she had read about the attacks we're horrendous, but to see the man in person was something else. He didn't look like a maimed man as they had described him to be.

"What scares and injuries came from these?"

He swallowed heavy, "a long cut from my chest to my belly button, a bullet wound on my left cheek, I have lost vision in my left eye, and I must wear a plate in my mouth to stop my face from drooping."

"Ok, what is it that brings you here? How are they affecting your dating life?" She watched him carefully as he close this eyes to hide the hurt.

"I have had four dates since the first..." He has a small catch in his throat, "each one left after the first date. One because I wouldn't have sex and take my shirt off. One was determined to see it at my refusal. The other two, they went out with me as a joke."

"Did you feel connected to any of them?"

"Excuse me?" He paused.

"Did you feel a connection? Something that made you say they were more then an average woman to you."

"No." He blinked, "they were just..  just..."

"Just willing to be with you. Just wanting to see your scars." She sat the notebook down, "You feel as if you aren't good enough physically now so you are willing to take whatever you can?"

"Yes." He sighed and whispered, "who would want this?"

It slipped out, she could tell he didn't want to say that. So she let it slip by. She let it pass to keep him from feeling attacked by her questions.

"I understand, now this is the point where a sexual nature is introduced. I can tell you aren't ready for the physical part so I will keep it hypothetical." She leaned forward, "tell me what you want? What do you think you need to feel secure with someone seeing your scars?"

"I don't know." He whispered.

"Do they need to touch it? Hold it? Smooth it? Kiss it?" She watched as he twitched slightly with his hand with each word.

"I don't know, that's why I came to you."

"I'm not a miracle work Frederick, you know therapy is give and take."

"It never gets that far. I haven't shown anyone that scar." He looked at his shoes, a small shine to them as he rolled them in the soft sunlight coming in the window.

"Why don't you show people? The scar on your chest isn't anything out of the ordinary. Many people are given scars there from surgery."

"But mine wasn't voluntary." He growled a little and quickly hid his face, "sorry."

"Don't be, I am poking at a sore subject. Anger and hostility tends to show then." She looked at how he rolled his shoulders back as if he didn't even think about that, "and I don't see any marks on your face or eye. It's well hidden."

"Yes, everyday I put on makeup like a woman to hide them... Contacts to hide the eye." He shifted as he knew the next poke was coming.

"May I see?"

"I prefer not. I must get to work when this session is over." He held back the harsh tone this time.

"You know you will eventually have to show me them if you want to make significant progress." She watched him dip his head.

"Yes, but the first session isn't that session." He looked up, "why haven't you stripped down and gave me a good session yet?"

"Again hostility, maybe even a little sarcasm." She smirked, "I would but then you would leave early. And you said you hated to waste a session."

He nodded and leaned back, "then what's your next trick?"

"Sex, imaginary sex. I want to see your physical reactions and hear your thoughts." She picked up the note book again, "close your eyes and relax. I will talk you through all of it and you'll fill in details that I leave out."

He looked pensive but agreed, laying down after laying his cane on the table. He shifted till he was comfortable and closed his eyes. She jotted down small details of how he laid and then you started.

"We're in your room. I smile and kiss you gently but firmly, nipping your lip to tell you I want more. I pull back and unzip my dress, letting it fall to a puddle at my feet." She paused and watched Frederick bit his lip and a small bulge starts in his pants.

"I reach out to pull you into another kiss, more passionately and sloppy then before." He let out a shakey breath.

"I push your jacket off, undo your tie gingerly with smooth movements of my fingers. I leave small pecks down your neck and slowly start to undo your shi..."

That caused him to shoot up and hold his scar, eyes wide with fear as the timer went off and he quickly grabbed his cane and rushed towards the door.

"Frederick, we were doing so well. I know time is up and you must get to work but please come back..." She tried to keep up as he partially limped to hurry out the door.

"I'll schedule later." He shut the door and went to his little red convertible. 

She watched him pull out and sighed as she glanced over her notes and stopped the recording.  _ **He was doing so well. Did I rush it? This is a deep issue and he didn't even attempt anything physical.... Maybe he wants a therapist and not sex therapy? Then why come to me?**_

* * *

 _ **That was a horrible idea!**_ Frederick thought as he drove to work slowly, willing the painfully hard boner to disappear before he makes it there,  _ **Why did I go to the sex therapist?**_

 He would go straight into the hospital, right to his office and not leave till he was sure he could walk without fearing it would come back at a simple thought. A thought of her.  About her softly tanned skin, her shinning blue eyes, and her firey red hair. What was it about this woman that made him so... So Juvenile. He was the ever so cliche high schooler crushing on the young teacher, constantly at 'attention'. He hated it, even more so as he tried to hide it behind his briefcase as he rode the elevator to his floor. 

 _ **What kind of stupid name is Babylon anyways? She must've changed it due to her 'techniques'.**_ He sighed as he finally shut his office door, safe from the eyes that would no doubt speared unwanted rumors.  _ **Maybe she deserves a second try? I did rush to judge. She is well trained and I did sign the consent form to be part of her study... I should schedule a second appointment at least.**_

His eyes closed as he tapped his fingers, the tent in his pants not going down. He thought about his last attempts with love, slowly killing his buzz. The nurse that refused his kiss and left with another man. The bank clerk that was almost to willing to have sex and left angry when he refused to take off his shirt. An old flame, a former colleague that he had a loving fling with. She shot him down and made it clear that she wasn't a fan of scars and no longer a friend. The last one stung the most, the hooker who refused to take his money after he had a panic attack. That was more than enough to soften him and instill a small pang of anger. 

The rest of the day he went about his work and occasionally thought of that woman, sometimes he even found himself more about her than work.She never gave a history of herself online, she obviously used a sur name with her practice.... She clearly wasn't dating or they would be angry about the sex with patients.  _ **No.... Stop. Why can't I stop thinking about her? Maybe I really do need another session.**_ His fingers danced up and down the phone, his indecisive mind trying to piece together an answer that he couldn't for the life of him decide on. Then they pressed the first button, and second, and the third. He didn't even know he had her number memorized already.  _ **She did make a lasting impression.**_ He finished the last few numbers and waited as it rang.

"Hello this is doctor Meera's office. How can I help you?" Her voice was soft and smooth, an angelic tone to her that made his face redden and smile.

"I would like to schedule another appointment, I was a little hasty when I ran off."

"Of course Frederick..." 

 _ **Oh dear lord, just hearing her say my name.**_ He felt the familiar pull and took a easy breath hoping it was late enough he could leave without people noticing.

"... When is good for you next week? Same parameters that applied before?"

"Yes please." He sighed.

"Wednesday mid-day... Or Friday could work?"

 _ **Ten days wait... No. Not that late.**_ Frederick thought it through, "Wednesday will work fine."

"See you Wednesday Dr. Chilton." 

The line went dead and he dropped his head as he placed the phone back on the receiver, "I thought it was Frederick."

The hurt evident in his tone. For what reason, he didn't know. Usually he loved making people use his title, the small dominant feeling that came with it. But from her, it stung. He liked the way her lips parted and how her voice was so soothing as she said his name. 

* * *

 After waiting a week, Frederick was all to happy to return to Babylons office. He wanted answers, maybe not the ones he first wanted when he met her, but definitely had many questions. Yet not one answer. He drove up the short drive, parking to the side. He walked up the walkway, stopping at the door taking a deep breath.  _ **Answers. You need answers.**_ He knocked softly, breathing easy as he heard footsteps and the short click of the door opening.

"Hello Frederick." Babylon smiled, "come in. I've been hastily awaiting our appointment."

She lead him back to her office, smiling as he sat down across from her. He watched her carefully as she found his file on her desk, taking in her appearance today. Her silky flaming locks were left loose as small curles strung around to frame her face perfectly. Her blue eyes beaming from behind the small blue framed glasses, her rosey lips focusing in a smile as she turned back around. Her white and sky blue dress paired perfect with her sleek lace flats with small bows by her ankles. If he didn't know better, he would think she was stuck in her adolescents. She sat down and smiled at him, a lot wider then he thought before. Her fingers flipped to a clean page and she turned the recorder on again. Her focus came back to him, and with her full attention Frederick was suddenly nervous again.

"Frederick, I'm afraid we went to far to fast last time. I take full blame. Let's step back a little." She raised her pen to write, "you said you had some bad dates, could you tell me about them?"

"Four bad dates." He clarified.

"Can you tell me about them? How did they go wrong?" She looked up with a comforting smile.

"The first one was a nurse, she pitied me after I was disemboweled. I didn't see it at first, then she refused to kiss me at the end of the date and left with a stranger." He swallowed the lump growing in his throat.

"That was detestable of her," she let out a small sigh, "I'm sorry."

"Then came the bank clerk. She was very provocative and to insistent on having sex. She left angry when I refused to take my shirt off." He bit his lip, watching her sincerely look doleful, "And my old friend. Jennifer, we use to date for a short time during our residency. Even after we parted I thought it was on good terms, I was sure she would be nice at least. It was cordial and then when I was dropping her off at home, she shot me down. She made it bitterly clear she wasn't my friend anymore and that my attack was the reason she wouldn't speak to me again."

"And the third one?" She had sat the pen down on the page and watched the way he retracted.

His confidence ruined, hands shaking softly, and eyes closed. The pain on his face caused her to stretch her hand out to him. She placed hers over his as it gripped the chair, causing it to grip tighter then loose and regain color. Her hand never left his, she leaned forward and spoke with her tranquilizing voice.

"You don't have to keep going..."

"It helps with the therapy, does it not?" Watching her nod, he continued, "then I will. The last one stung the most. A hooker i picked up and brought to my home. She refused to take my money after i had a panic attack. She left me alone in my home as I wheezed and struggled to feel safe. I threw plates at the wall, screamed and cried... I thought about suicide, about cutting my wrist with a shard from a plate. Instead I ended up with shards in my foot and a long night of picking them out."

"Frederick, your ok. Breath." She slowly leaned forward and ran her free hand up to cup his cheek, "I promise your safe. Your not alone."

His eyes slowly opened and he looked at her.  _ **Why does she care? Why doesn't she run? Everyone else does.**_ He bit his lip but relaxed under her gentle touches.

"There we go, I don't want you to panic on me Frederick. I wouldn't leave but I prefer not to have panic in the first place." She slowly pulled back once he nodded, "Good, so why did you come to me?"

"I just told you." He sat up a little better, his eyes finding hers again.

"No, you told me why you sought therapy. Why did you chose me? Why this trial?"

"Why not you?" He posed back.

"I have physical sex with my clients. You are not in the littlest bit interested in the intimacy of sex, so again, Why pick the sex therapist with sexual therapy?"

"I don't know." He whispered.

"Your a doctor, well noted. You have written books and run a hospital for the criminally insane." She paused and watched him as he struggled to think, "You would've done research?"

"I did." He blinked for a hard second.

"I'll take a guess." She sat the notebook by the recorder and tucked the pen in behind her ear, "I'm far enough from the hospital to not worry about people following by accident but not to far as to have short sessions or interfere with work. I am well noted and have written several journal articles but I am widely controversial in my technique. No one you know would think of you coming to me. And I am sure some part of you actually wants to see if my techniques work." She leaned back in her chair with a smile, "or because I'm beautiful and your guaranteed sex as a patient."

Her smirk told him it was a joke, and he actually cracked a smile and let a small chuckle escaped. The truth was, she was very much the type of person he would've chased before his scars. Funny and cute, witty and brilliant yet still just enough down to earth to make him be humble. Before he was scarred, she would've been the woman of his dreams. Now, now she is the woman of his dreams only because she doesn't run from him. 

"That is true, I can't even pay a prostitute for sex... Now my insurance is paying for it." 

She slowly pulled the pen out from behind her ear and chewed on the cap, "sounds like a win if I ever heard of one."

A timer dinged and she sighed, turning the recorder off as she stood. He frowned,  ** _This session went so fast, but the last one dragged?_** She offered her hand and helped him up, handing him his cane and walking him to the door. 

"I am so sad to see our session end so soon, we were making great progress and you didn't leave abruptly." She stopped with the door open for him, "next week, same time?"

"Could we meet sooner." He turned back towards her as he stepped out the door.

"I'm sorry, rules of the trial. But I do so look forward to our next meeting." She stood by the door and waved as he pulled out of her drive.

* * *

 A week dragged by, Frederick practically fraying at the edges waiting for the next session. He was intrigued, he needed to know more about her. Let her teach him on things he already knows, because he has already analyzed himself. He knows his issue, his faults psychologically. He was curious to see if she could fix it with sex and talking. He drove up her drive, parking and walking up quickly to her door.  _ **Every second counts, every moment I can spend with her.**_ Two knocks and he held his breath, she answered swiftly.

"Why hello Frederick, do come in." She smiled and motioned him in.

"I hope you don't mind I'm a little early, my lunch got moved up." He lied.

 "I'm sure, luckily my hump days are not so much names sake." She followed him back to her therapy room, "I would say the same for you but years are far worse then hours in a day."

"I must say, that stung a little." He chuckled as he sat down, "where should we start today?"

"Where would you like too?" She turned the recorder on.

"You have yet to ask about my sex life before. My work and stress levels. Not even my attacks themselves." He looked at her, her hand scribbling away on the paper.  _ **What is she writing already?**_

"Ok, we can start there. In that order." Her eyes focused on the paper as he shifted.

Surprised at how his joke turned into therapy.  _ **She really does hold all the power.**_ He scratched his neck and loosened his tie. That earned a look and a little more writing.

 "My sex life before the first attack was average. A few times a week... Good if I must say so myself, never a unsatisfied woman."

"Don't embellish on my account, I don't expect people to be as frequent as I." She raised a brow at him and he looked to his shoes.

"Maybe not so, well so frequent." He coughed softly as he cleared his throat from his embarrassment.

"Men often relate partners and frequency to dominance. Don't worry about that, truth is important." 

"Maybe a lot less frequent." He sighed, "I run a hospital and have no personal life to say. I personally think my stress is high but some would disagree."

"Skipping over the sex life, ok..." She kept writing, "what makes you so stressed?"

"The hospital, responsibility, my anxiety.... Lack of sex life." He whispered the last part.

"Do you do anything to relieve stress?"

"Not really. I usually only go home to sleep since I live alone. I collect wine but never drink it..." He hid the small sting that came with saying these things out loud.

"Because you have no one to drink it with." She looked up and smiled, "you want a relationship, something that you can build on and rely on. But to gain a relationship you have to be able to open up and be vulnerable. The most vulnerable you can be is naked in front of someone for the first time."

"Exactly." He nodded.

"And the last thing you said?" She lifted the pen up to tuck in behind her ear.

"The attacks." He shifted and she seen every inch of courage and comfort drain from him.

"Go slow, don't rush. Use detail, your feelings during it all.... Let it all out to a trusting ear." She sat the notebook down.

Frederick opened his mouth but couldn't find words. His body fought him every step of the way. His brain wouldn't find words, vocal cords wouldn't form them, lips wouldn't move, and tongue froze. He wasn't able to find words if he wanted, his body shaking softly from the memories. To his surprise, she was quick to help. She moved over and sat beside him, hand on his thigh. Whispering in his ear, soothing his fear. He started to calm down as the timer dinged, his heart dropped. He wasn't ready to go.

She got his jacket, and watched him slowly stand up. He took his cane and walked out the door with a small smile, she waved and watched him leave for work again. He was stuck thinking about her all day, this therapist had him hazy in the head. 

_**Is there something special about her? There has to be, Or else she wouldn't be stuck in my head. But what is it? Am I romanticizing her? Transferring my sexual frustration into a false love for her? That's ridiculous. Pull yourself together Frederick.** _

She shut the door and closed her eyes,  _ **three out of five. Never go past five with this type of pat. Don't get attached, he's a patient. But he's different... It's not the sex with him. I wonder what sex with him is like?**_ She turned around and went back to transcribe the recorder, listening to his voice a little longer.

* * *

 A week went by, no surprise they were both antsy to see each other again. Frederick needed to understand why he was so drawn to her. Babylon needed to know why he was different, why he was effecting her so.  

 So as the appointment started, or well Frederick arrived ten minutes early. They went back and started as usual. Recorder turned on, her notebook on her lap and pen behind her ear. Frederick admired her outfit. The soft yellow dress with gray print on it, same sundress style with a pair of grey sneakers, and her hair in a pony tail. She smiled at him as he sat down on the chase and leaned forward, this time he knew where they would start, where he left off last time before the panic attack. The attacks.

"You look beautiful today." He smiled at her.

"And you look dashing Frederick." She smiled, a small blush to her silky cheeks, "but you're stalling. We need to address the attacks. The root of your problems and the first step on healing."

 He nodded, knowing it was true. It wasn't making it easier but he leaned forward and sighed. His hand was shaking softly, he held it firmly and she watched him carefully do so.

"A former patient of mine, I believed he was the Chesapeake ripper. He fit the profile I had made and became institutionalized at the right point. I was sure it was him. Then he killed one of my nurses, exactly like the last victim they had found." She caught him closing his eyes and jerking his neck, "He escaped later on and decided to disembowel me, leaving my working organs being held in my hands and a journalist using an air pump bag to keep me alive until the FBI and medics got there."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." She sat the notebook down, "Why did he do that to you?"

His hand played with the cane, twisting and rolling it in his hands, "off the record." 

She nodded and turned off the recorder, "of course."

"I was psychic driving." He looked down and refused to meet her eyes, "He fit the profile so well, was admitted at the perfect time... I didn't hold the crime he was admitted for to much of a standard. I showed him crime scene photos, talked with him constantly." He sighed, "but I was wrong. When he escaped he turned my insides into a fruit basket for the ripper, using me as chance to chat with him."

"You only did what you thought, well what you thought was right." She was studying him, worried about his reaction.

"Yes." He nodded, "but very unethical and unorthodox."

"And the second attack?" She leaned in.

"A woman was held captive for years and had her arm cut off. She was an FBI agent in training, worked with the profiler I worked with. She was found and thought she might be able to identify the ripper that abducted her. Apparently she had been subject to questionable methods while she was held captive because when i was brought in for questioning after attempting to escape, she identified me as the ripper." He looked up towards her, "she pulled a gun off the agent that was with her in the other room and shot me. Bullet went through my cheek, and out the back at a low angle luckily. A bullet wound, a practically dead eye, and a plate in my mouth to keep the shape on the left side of my face." 

He gave a faint smile, "the doctors said it was a miracle I survived. Feels more like a curse."

With Frederick eyeing her, she nodded, "I understand how you could feel like that."

"Why would anyone want me now? I'm a freak. Accused of being a serial killer...." He huffed and squeezed the handle of his cane, "I'm a joke."

"Why did you run?" She asked as he locked eyes with her again, "Since we're off the record completely now."

"The FBI figured it had to be me or Hannibal. So he set a trap. He waited in my home until I arrived home. A beeping, that of a heart monitor, drew me to my basement/wine cellar. I walked to the closed door and opened it as the monitor sounded like the heart had stopped to find the patient that had disemboweled me on a table and his limbs gone, well some were at saw and had a butcher knife stuck in one to frame me. He died just before I opened the door." His face twisted in pain, the memories fresh in his head and he wasn't prepared to deal with them, "I panicked and ran up the steps without my cane and tripped on a few suitcases that were left blocking my hallway to the door. I look up from my spot on the floor to see Hannibal as the FBI knocked at my door. He rendered me unconscious with chloroform or something and killed them in my home."

"Oh dear lord," she whispered, but he kept going.

"I woke up covered in blood, holding a gun and a bloody knife. A blood trail lead to the goodies..." He swallowed a lump in his throat, "one in the kitchen sitting on my counter with his bowels hanging out, and one on my dinning room table made to look like the nurse in the hospital. I did exactly what Hannibal had whispered in my ear before knocking me out, I ran. My bags were already packed and I didn't even change, running to a perceived friend and temporary agent that sold me out while I showered and changed. He didn't think I was the ripper but he wasn't going to let me run and distract them from the real killer."

 "I'm so sorry..." She whispered, reaching over to him and covering his whitening hands with her gently warm one, "I'm sorry I made you drag that back up Frederick."

"But you did." He spat, "what's next? You want me to tell you how the women humiliated me? Give you the details of how they teased me then shut me down, throwing me to the curb like trash!"

"I didn't..." She tried, only for him to stand and leave to her pleading, "Frederick please!"

"Frederick I wasn't making fun of you."

"Frederick I was just trying to help."

He slammed the door, she felt as if the house shook. Frederick wasn't a normal patient, she wouldn't of chased a patient to the door begging them to stay. A normal patient would've been having sex with her by now. A normal patient would've gotten physical by now, would've attacked her for dragging up something half as painful. She wanted to stop him, he was something different and special and she wanted to console him. To hold him as he shook. She wanted to hold him... ** _Hold him? Console him. I want to help this man... I want to show him not everyone is disgusted or intrigued by his scars... I just want to show him I'm different._** She gasped at the realization.

* * *

 Frederick stayed in the office all day. No walking around, no sessions, no phone calls. He wanted to sit alone on his couch and listen to the hospital, to get rid of the thoughts in his head. 

_**How dare she bring that up? Revictimize me like that! Make me a fool! What gives her the right!** _

He slammed his fist against the couch armrest. He was frustrated, it wasn't clear anger. He hated revisiting those memories but that wasn't what made him snap, it was being weak in front of her. It was the tears threatening his eyes, the catch in his throat, and his shaking hands. It was weakness, weakness was what scared him and made him snap. With Hannibal alive and running around somewhere free where no one knows him, free to come and kill him when he least expect it. Weakness was the enemy. Weakness was how Hannibal had maimed him before. He couldn't show weakness. 

This lead to the most surprising thing, a phone call. Frederick gave in to temptation but promised not to temp weakness. He called and scheduled the final appointment. He was tired of weakness, of the temptations in his head. He was finishing the agreement, all five appointments and he was going to give Babylon Meera something to write about.

* * *

This time he was just on time, his heart racing as he walked to her door. He knew what this session would be, he was mentally prepared for what laid behind that door. One knock, not even a minute later the door opened and he took in her appearance. Her red hair curled up in a messy bun, a beautiful baby blue dress hugged her waist and flared out the closer to her knees it got. Matching blue heels that brought her just short of his height.

"Hello Frederick, I must say I'm surprised you came." She motioned him in and took his coat.

"Well it is our last session and I did sign an agreement.... Anything for the progression of psychology." He smiled faintly and sat his cane against the steps.

"Glad to hear, follow me back and we'll begin."

He took a few steps and nodded, his only sign of nerves that he quickly pushed down. She didn't see, but she guessed it when it took him a few extra steps after she walked into the room.

"So we can start slow or jump right in." She turned to look at him, "which do you prefer?"

"I think my body is ready," he shifted his stance as the small pulse started to pound in his ears from his penis.

Frederick was trying to hold his breath steady, the session went straight to sex. He stood across from Babs and watched as she offered an exchange. For each piece of clothing she took off, he would take one off as well. She Unzipped her dress and let it puddle at her feet as she kicked off her heels, her hair in a messy bun and bright blue and black underwear sticking out perfectly against her skin. He kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, waiting for her next move. 

She watched as his hands fought not to shake and he tried to look unphased. So she reached behind her and started to undo her brasier as his breathing hitched. He watched as the bra fell slowly off her arms and to the floor, she smiled at him shyly to make him feel more comfortable. He slowly pulled his tight fitting boxers down, feeling the small strain of his excitement. Her eyes dropped to his manhood, a small gasp of surprise released. Not because he actually shown it, but because he was fairly large for driving that little sports car. 

"You feeling ok Frederick? Ready for the last piece?"

He nodded and glued his eyes to her legs as she shimmied out of the underwear and kicked them off to the side. His breath escaped him at the sight, the beautiful goddess of a therapist that was standing naked in front of him. She tipped her head with a small blush before he slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. The scar came to view and he hissed slightly as he let the shirt fall.

"Is it ok if I come to you Frederick?" She asked as she walked over at his nod.

Each step brought more fear and arousal to him. He reached out and kissed her, running his hand softly through her hair to tangle in the firey locks. She caressed the scarred cheek, gingerly rolling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. The moment went on for some time, her hips rubbing against his gently as he now held her waist. The intimacy was clear, both being careful as she inched him back to the bed. He laid her down, tracing down her body before she sat up to kiss his scar. Her eyes full of trust, he seen it and couldn't turn away now.  

"What do you want Frederick?"

"To feel you." He whispered, holding her cheek.

She nodded, silent permission for him to do so. Her eyes glued to his, watching his pupils grow as he pressed his wrapped head to her center. Her hand resting up by her head, showing Frederick had full control. Her other hand traced his scar gingerly. Her mouth opened and let out a gasp, the pressure quickly turned to stretching. She felt full, unlike ever before. He whimpered as he adjusted, his heart pounding louder then anything he ever heard. It filled his ears and he was relishing in it. He pulled back and pushed in slowly, her back arching as her hand dropped and gripped the sheets. His hand doing the same, holding him up as he looked at her. Her eyes closed as she moaned, his lips curling up at the sight. He set a soft pace, smooth and gentle. For the first time in over a year he felt pleasure. 

And as quickly as it started, it ended. The timer went off. Frederick groaned, pulling out and closing his eyes. He got dressed, slowly as she laid there. No words exchanged. He wanted to stay, to hold her, to finish what he started. He didn't want to go but the session was over and work was calling. His last session.

She wanted to stop him, to tell him to stay. She wanted to see him feeling a high after a orgasm. Yet she laid there and closed her eyes, once the steps left the room she rolled to her side and felt the tear drop. She wanted him to stay because he wasn't like the others.... He wasn't like the other men that came for sex. He had a horrible story, gruesome scars... He had a real reason for problems, And she just wanted him to know not everyone seen him like a monster.

* * *

It had been a few days, neither called the other. The sessions were done, her study involving him was finished. But they both wanted to.

Frederick stared at his phone, the number highlighted and he always put the phone away. She would see his file and the recorder that held the tape with his name, but she wouldn't touch it. Something happened.... Something changed. But she couldn't figure out what.

 A week goes by and still no calls, both watching their phones. She broke, but not a call oh no, she needed to see him. She needed to know him. So she picked up the file and went to her computer, digging into the crime. She looked over ever article, the reports filed by the police and FBI... Everything. She seen a few photos and turned away.  _ **How could these things happen? And to such a good man.**_ Then she seen the kicker, between the article naming the crime scene and his file giving his address... He still lives in that house.  _ **For such a bright man, he missed the obvious answer. He was victimizing himself every time he woke up, every time he went home... He never gave himself a chance.**_ She rushed off, the moon lighting up what her small car couldn't as she drove to his home. She wasn't sure why, but she knew where she needed to be. 

Pulling in his drive, a short walk to his door, she bit her lip and prayed it was the right choice. Two knocks. A minute later the door opened and they came face to face.

"Hello Frederick, I was in the neighborhood."

"I don't understand." He stood still blocking the way.

"Neither do i... But I want to and I think it starts with you." She smiled as he moved quickly to kiss her, holding her side and cheek as she deepened the kiss before pulling back, "yes, it definitely starts with you."

 He pulled her in the door, her hands draping around his shoulders as he shut the door and pinned her to it.

"I thought you never went past five sessions in your study." He was searching her face for any give.

"That's why I brought your file. I can't use you Frederick." She ghosted her lips against his neck as she gave the last part, "I stopped being impartial."

He closed his eyes and smiled, he had a woman at his door that wasn't going to run away. One that seen his scar and wouldn't be turned off.... He could finish what he couldn't last time. He took her hand and lead her to the bedroom, stopping by the bed and smiling at her.

"You look beautiful Babylon." He pushed back a small curled of red hair that hung loose past her shoulders.

Her red dress was fitted, showing of her hips. A pair of heels that she kicked off before they even made it away from the door. She was looking more like a adult then the innocent look she usually wore.

"You called me Babylon." She smiled, "you never called me anything besides Doctor."

"Your not my doctor anymore." He chuckled and pulled her in for a kiss, his hands dancing down her back to unzip the gorgeous dress.

"Then I can do this." She bit his lip and pulled him into a deeper kissed as he pushed the dress off her shoulders so she could shimmy out of the rest of it.

He pulled back in took in the plain white bra and panties, letting his arms hang as she unbuttoned and push his night shirt off him. She dropped her head and kissed his scar, humming softly against it as he took her small hand in his. The fingers interlaced, both hands as he savored the feeling of her sweet attention.

"Please...please don't stop." He whispered when she went to pull back, so she moved to his cheek and wiped off the makeup to find his bullet wound.

"Your beautiful Frederick, why are you so scared to show it?" She kissed him again before watching him remove the rest. 

The contact he put away in it's case and his plate on the try it sat on. She kissed him again and ran her fingers through his hair as he smiled.

"Is it wrong of me to say, I was hoping you'd do this." He whispered as she tugged at his pants.

"Do you think so little of me as a doctor? Or was it just in hopes of seeing me again without the restraints of a contract."

"I don't think of you as a bad doctor." He smirked and pulled her down on top of him on the bed, "I would never think that of you."

"Good." She smiled as she looked down at the godly man beneath her, "I could never think that of you."

He ran a hand up and cupped her bra cups, smoothly slipping a hand under them before sliding them back to undo the bra. She let the garment fall off as she took his hand and put the other on his shoulder as he pulled her closer and rolled then over. He kissed her neck, slipping a finger in her waist band to pull them down as his pecks lowered to her chest. His plush lips found her left nipple and her leg helped him remove the panties before hooking around his waist. Her moan was soft as he trailed his lips down to her sensitive pearl. As he dropped to his knees, he slipped off his pants and underwear.

Her eyes closed as she felt the feather light kisses over her nether regions, his nose tracing back up slowly so their lips can reconnect. Her velvety lips pressed to his, eyes closing as he slips his tongue past her teeth. Every touch was gentle, calculated, and perfection. The way he held himself up on shaking arms as she stroked his back softly. Her soft caress of his drooping face, before their eyes lock. Her leg slipped around him to offer him support and reassurance. He took the chance to press between her swollen lips and kiss her as he moved further in. A gasp escaped her mouth, her pupils dilated and nails dug into his back. 

"Oh God... Oh Frederick." She moaned as he dropped his forehead to hers.

"Your too perfect." He whispered, "an angel in my bed."

She grasped his shoulder and arched her body up, rubbing it against his, and letting her teeth scrape against his collar bone. She had lost control, just letting her body do as it pleased. The bliss was fulfilling as she sighed and lifted her hips in time with his.

"That's it, keep going baby." He whispered, "your amazing."

"Please... Please Frederick. Don't stop." Her eyes flickered as he held her down against the bed and pushed into her.

Every inch was dragging and pushing in just the right spot, the pressure doubling with each thrust in. His hands left her hips, tracing up her legs gingerly till he could hook her ankle and move it to his shoulder. Suddenly he was much deeper and she lost the ability to speak. 

His drawn out moan sounded almost primal, his hand finding hers and interlocking the fingers. He picked up the pace, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room as she gasped for air. His moans carrying through his home. Her eyelashes clouded her vision as she fought to keep her eyes up, his lips finding hers and helped as he hungrily devoured what little escaped her mouth. She was starting to quiver, to shake as she moaned and he stilled for a moment.

"I don't want this to end so soon." He whispered against her neck as she tried to wiggle and get him to move.

"Please... Oh God Frederick please!" She kept trying as he put his hips flush to hers, squishing any chance she had.

"Say what I want to hear." He pushed himself up as she wiggled again.

"Frederick, I-i-i love you." He lifted his hips and shoved in, "oh God! Yes!... " 

"I love you Babylon." He groaned as he started hitting hard.

The room was full of soft cries of lust and the words sitting on their minds as they fell over the edge. Her legs squeezing him, his ass rolling softly as he hit her with each thrust. Her voice dry and rough from lack of hydration, his cracking with each thrust as he spilled out. Her legs released him, falling down to the bed as he barely caught himself before he smashed her. The audible slush came as he pulled out and looked at his handy work, a completely debauched therapist that said I love you to him. He was in heaven as he laid down beside her.

His arm circled around her, holding her and pulling her to rest on his chest. She smiled and wrapped an arm around him.

"Thank God you're not my therapist anymore." He smiled, "because this would be all kinds of wrong."

"As long as this is more then a one time thing." She replied.

He kissed her head, "I think I love you."

"I know I love you." She smirked and stole a firm kiss.

The two curled up as one, panting to regain control. Finally feeling whole since the first time they met. And Frederick gave a small thank you to God for sending him to Babylon.


End file.
